Tina Folsom

Paranormal Romance

A Touch of Greek

Out of Olympus #1

Selfish and gorgeous Greek God Triton is cast out of Olympus after seducing Zeus’s mistress and can only gain reentry if he finds a woman who loves him for his kindness and selflessness, not his beauty. When the mortal Sophia – recovering from an eye operation and virtually blind – needs a home healthcare worker, he takes on the role, hoping she will be his ticket home.

While defending Sophia from an unknown adversary, Triton’s protective instinct emerges. At the same time rival Gods do everything to doom him to failure. And even if Triton can win Sophia’s love, will he throw it away to return home, or will he lose his own heart to the only woman who truly sees him?

A Touch of Greek is the first book in the humorous and sexy paranormal romance series Out of Olympus following the romantic adventures of four Gods: Triton, Dionysus, Eros, and Hermes.

Excerpt

PROLOGUE

Sophia stomped through the white sand with her little red plastic bucket and headed for the water. Just because Michael was two months older than she, he thought he could order her around. Now he wanted her to fetch water so he could build a sandcastle. And, of course, he would take all the credit for it.

She’d show her little creep of a cousin what he could do with his water. She would pour it all over him instead of in the sand. That would teach him to treat her like his personal slave. And after this summer, she’d be starting school, and then she would make her own friends and wouldn’t have to play with him anymore.

There, take that, Michael!

Sophia waded into the shallow water and dipped the bucket into it, filling it to the rim. As she straightened, a movement caught her eye. Several feet farther out in the ocean, the tail fin of a huge fish sank back beneath the surface. She stumbled backwards, startled. Her grip on the bucket slipped. It sank, and with the next wave it was pulled out of her reach.

She cursed with the only cuss word she’d ever heard her aunt Eleni use, “Shit!” and instantly put her hand over her mouth, praying nobody had heard her. She darted a nervous look over her shoulder, but luckily nobody was close. According to Eleni, five-year-old girls weren’t supposed to use words like that.

A splash in the water made her turn to her right. And then she saw him.

He was resting on one of the large rocks which stuck out from the water. Like a sea lion, he lay there sunning himself. Only she’d seen sea lions before, in the zoo, and he looked like no such creature. No, he looked like a … mermaid. But that wasn’t possible, was it? Mermaids were girls, not men.

Sophia waded through the surf to get a closer look at the strange man.

“Are you a mermaid?” she asked loudly, waving her arms so he would notice her.

He instantly sat up, gave her a startled look, and jumped back into the water.

“Wait, don’t go!” she yelled. She hadn’t meant to scare him off.

All of a sudden, she felt new waves rush at her feet and lost her balance. She fell backwards, and the current pulled her into deeper water. She kicked her legs to keep her head above water, but she was scared—more than she’d ever been. Before the current could pull her under, arms grabbed her and lifted her up. Sophia wiped the water out of her eyes and stared at her rescuer.

It was the mermaid man—he’d come back. She gave him a huge smile, her fear instantly forgotten.

“Are you a mermaid?” Sophia asked him again and looked at him. His upper body was that of a big man, but just below the surface of the water she could see the scales of a fish and a large fin moving as if he treaded water.

He chuckled. “No, little one, I’m not a mermaid.”

“What’s your name?” Eleni had told her it was impolite to ask strangers questions, but she didn’t care.

“I’m Poseidon. What’s yours?”

“Sophia. And I’m five.” She held up her hand, showing him all five fingers so he would know for sure how grown up she already was.

“Well, Sophia, now that we’re friends, can you make me a promise?” His look was conspiratorial, the same way her aunt always looked when telling her a big secret.

“Yes,” she whispered and drew her head closer to him.

“Promise me to never tell anybody that you’ve seen me. Nobody is supposed to, because I’m invisible.”

“But you’re not. I can see you,” she protested.

Poseidon smiled. “Yes, and that’s quite a bit of a surprise. So how about I promise you something in return?”

Sophia listened up. A present? A new toy? “Okay?”

“You promise me you won’t tell anybody that you’ve seen me, and I’ll let you play with my son one day. Deal?”

She was a tough negotiator. “When?”

“When what?”

“When do I get to play with him?”

Poseidon frowned. “When he’s past his bad boy phase.”

“He’s bad?” she asked, and wondered whether he was as terrible as Michael.

“Not that bad—just a little naughty. You’ll like him. He’s handsome too. And you might be just the kind of girl he needs,” Poseidon baited her.

Sophia pursed her lips and considered Poseidon’s offer. “Okay then. I’ll play with him.”

“That’s my girl.” He dipped his hand into the water. When he pulled it back out, he was holding her red bucket.

“Oh, you found it!” Now she could douse Michael with water after all.

A moment later, she was sitting in the wet sand, the waves lapping at her feet, her bucket in her hands. The man was gone.

Reluctantly, Michael grabbed his plastic shovel and turned to where he’d played in the sand earlier.

Eleni gave Sophia a soft smile. “There are no men who’re half fish, half man. You were dreaming again.”

“No, I wasn’t. He talked to me. He said his name is Poseidon, and he was nice.”

Now she’d said it and broken her promise. Eleni was to blame. She’d made her do it. Now she wouldn’t get to play with Poseidon’s son.

Sophia sighed. Never mind, she tried to console herself, if he was really such a naughty boy, then she didn’t want to play with him anyway.

1

Twenty-three years later

What would the punishment be this time? A year in Hades for giving it to Zeus’s mistress du-jour? Seemed like a fair exchange, Triton thought. It could be worse. He could be bridled from any sexual activities for a decade—which would suck to say the least. Anything, just not that! He’d never survive it. Not sating his sexual urges for a week bordered on excruciating, a decade would be pure torture.

At least in Hades, he could screw some desperate souls, and the year would pass in delicious debauchery. He could deal with the heat and the stench, and surely, Father’s other brother, Hades, wouldn’t make the stay too uncomfortable for him. As long as Triton kept his hands off Hades’ wife. Now there was a beauty, if there ever was one.

Despite his thoughts, Triton kept his head down and his eyes averted, not willing to piss the king of gods off any further. He cringed convincingly as Zeus lifted his arm and sent another thunderbolt across the blue sky. A sound as loud as a thousand horses’ hooves cracked through the white clouds that hung over Olympus. For sure, his uncle gave an impressive show right there on the terrace of his home overlooking the mortal world of Greece.

Better to play the repentant servant to Zeus. There was no way he was getting out of this mess unscathed. Not even his father Poseidon could help him right now—not that Triton wanted to ask the old man for help. All he’d get would be a lecture.

Besides, in his current state, Uncle Zeus wouldn’t listen to anyone, least of all his brother.

Whatever punishment Triton was due, however, would be worth it. By the gods, how Danae’s pale thighs had wrapped around him when he’d pumped into her. Her pink nipples had been erect little peaks topping voluptuous breasts that had bounced up and down, side to side with every thrust he’d delivered. Oh Gods, he’d delivered it to her—several times. She’d screamed her pleasure to the heavens and professed he was a better lover than Zeus, and by the gods, he’d lapped that compliment up the same way he’d gobbled up the juices that had oozed from her quivering pussy.

She’d milked him so many times he’d collapsed in her arms, unable to move another limb. And that was exactly how Zeus had found him: in her bed, bare-assed, and with his dick still inside her. Talk about in flagrante. He wasn’t going to smooth-talk himself out of that one.

Triton took a deep breath and filled his lungs with the sweet scent of ambrosia that drifted his way from just inside the palace. He eyed the spectators, who’d gathered around them. It hadn’t taken long for them to assemble—one word to the right person and the news had spread like wildfire. Zeus liked an audience as much as the next god, especially when he was ready to hand out punishment.

“Did you hear me?” Zeus’s voice boomed through the warm air, hitting him like a hurricane sweeping over the sea. Unlike any storm over the world’s oceans, this was one Triton couldn’t calm, not even with his powers as the god of seafarers and sailors.

Triton lifted his head to meet his uncle’s glare but was careful not to show his defiance. “Of course, Zeus.”

Zeus looked nothing like the mortals depicted him in their books and paintings. He was no old man with a white beard. No, the god of all gods was a virile man looking no older than thirty-five in mortal years, with a chiseled face as beautiful as Michelangelo’s David, and as hard as the marble the famous artist had used. How unfortunate, Triton mused. It made competition for some decent pussy on Olympus darn stiff. And only around women would Zeus turn on his charm and melt any female right into his perfect body—or under it, which was the preferred position for any woman when around the god.

Again, a blast of air came Triton’s way, threatening to upset his balance.

“Then choose.”

Choose? What did Zeus want him to choose between?

He would have done well to listen this once, but his uncle’s tirades could go on for hours, and what was the point of taking any notice when he couldn’t change the outcome anyway? However, this time a sinking feeling spread in Triton’s stomach as if he was about to gamble away his life.

“Uh, I …” he stammered.

An angry grunt was Zeus’s reply. “Option one or two. I’m leaving you a choice, but only because my brother has bartered for leniency toward you. Personally, I would crush you with my bare hands. Frankly, boy, I’ve had it with you. Would you like me to remind you of all the things you’ve done?”

Triton’s memory was working just fine. He sure needed no reminder, but he knew better than to anger Zeus while his punishment still hung in the balance.

“Ares’ house still stinks to this day after you dumped a barrel of fish in his atrium and let it rot there.”

Triton remembered all too well. Served the bastard right though—it had been payback for Ares destroying any chances he might have had with the goddess Phoebe by spreading vicious (and of course entirely untrue) rumors about Triton’s sexual prowess—or lack thereof. Any god worth his salt would have reacted the same way.

“Not to even speak of how you seduced the Nymph Metope the night before her wedding. Is nothing sacred to you?”

Well, the dainty creature had asked for it—she’d virtually begged him to take her.

Dear God, please show me how to make my husband happy, she’d prayed. So Triton had taken it upon himself to show her a thing or two. Well, maybe three.

“Now choose before I change my mind!”

Triton glanced around the crowd, trying to find a friendly face among it. Somebody had to help him out. He couldn’t very well ask Zeus to repeat the two choices. If he knew that Triton had been daydreaming while he’d let out his tirade, there’d be more-than-hell to pay, and all choices would be taken away.

No, whatever he chose now would ultimately be better than what Zeus handed down if angered even further.

Triton spotted Eros and Hermes, two of his best friends, in the crowd. Maybe they could help him make a decision without Zeus noticing.

As always, Eros’s tunic was slung low across his muscled chest, the material flowing elegantly down to his knees, covering his strong thighs. His bow and quiver hung over his shoulder. He never went anywhere without it. He stood over six feet tall, his dark brown hair cropped short. His friend Hermes, equally tall and strong and as usual wearing his winged sandals that could take him anywhere, stood next to him. He was a crafty fellow and could be relied upon to help him out of a dilemma.

With a barely perceivable move of his head, Triton motioned to his two friends. Both moved their hands in front of their bodies, displaying a number of digits.

From his fist, Eros let one finger emerge. Perfect! His friend had understood him. Triton’s gaze rolled to Hermes’ hand. Two fingers stretched out from his friend’s fist.

By the gods! Those two weren’t in agreement?

What now?

Should he go with Eros, the one who’d never tried to shoot him with one of his arrows even though he deserved it? Not that they worked on a god, but they stung like Hades for a week. Or should he trust Hermes, who’d always had his back when it counted but occasionally played some nasty pranks on him?

Which one of his friends had his best interest in mind? Eros or Hermes?

Another thunderbolt indicated Zeus’s impatience and told Triton his time was up.

Instinctively, Triton pushed his shoulders back to get ready for battle. He took an extra deep breath of oxygen, re-energizing his body. If there was a challenge to be met, he was ready. How hard could it be?

“Frankly, I thought you would have chosen Hades instead.”

Oh, fuck. He could have had fun in the Underworld. No wonder Hermes had suggested that option. The two of them could have hung out since Hermes knew the river Styx and the path to the Underworld. Every time Hermes escorted another soul into Hades, they could have visited and had fun. Damn, why hadn’t he listened to him?

Triton glanced at Eros and mouthed what the fuck? only to get a lopsided grin as a response.

What, for Olympus’s sake, had he chosen instead? A sense of foreboding struck him out of nowhere. With bated breath, he looked at Zeus, avoiding his eyes and instead staring at his mouth. There was a pause which felt like an eternity before Zeus finally continued.

“It is decreed then. Triton, you shall be cast out into the human world and only come back when you have found a mortal woman who loves you not for your beauty but your kindness and selflessness.”

Zeus’s laugh echoed against the palace, then rolled down the hills into Greece. In his shock, Triton barely heard what the mortals would perceive as thunder. He couldn’t be hearing right. The mortal world? And under those conditions? Had Zeus gone off his rocker?

“That should keep the bugger busy for the next century,” he heard a spectator whisper.

“Like any woman will ever see past his looks—not a chance in Hades,” another replied and laughed.

Didn’t he know it? Triton was graced with his mother’s beauty: blond hair, blue eyes, and a classical nose. Coupled with a perfect body, there wasn’t anything Triton could physically improve upon. There wasn’t a day that went by when he didn’t get a come hither look from a woman—goddess or mortal. Or scornful looks from gods or men who saw him as clear competition for the affections of their women. But it appeared that his good looks could become a hindrance in his quest to return home.

Triton tossed Eros a pissed off look. Why on earth had his friend—make that ex-friend—given him such bad advice? Eros’s smug smile said it all—he had a secret agenda. He’d wring the love god’s neck as soon as Zeus was gone, and then afterwards, he’d find out Eros’s motives.

Hurt him first, ask questions later.

“You will also be stripped of all your godly powers while you reside on earth,” Zeus continued. “Any god helping you with your challenge will be punished.”

The big god let his gaze sweep over the crowd, lingering more than a few seconds on Eros and Hermes.

“This also goes for any gods not assembled here today.”

Well, that took care of Dionysus then. The quartet was practically inseparable. But while he wasn’t present at Triton’s sentencing—and most likely out carousing somewhere in the human world—Dionysus would surely come to his aid if need be.

On Olympus, friendship meant more than kin—considering that with all the inbreeding going on, practically everybody was related anyway.

Both Hermes and Dionysus were his cousins, while Eros was a cousin twice removed (and if Triton could help it, completely removed after the stunt he’d just pulled, giving him such disastrous counsel).

“In addition,” Zeus droned on.

Was the old god still not done? What else could he add that would make this any worse than it already was?

“… any god found interfering with Triton’s efforts to secure the love of a mortal through his kindness and selflessness, shall be …” Zeus made a dramatic pause. In the silence that followed, one could have heard the tear of a virgin drop to the ground—not that there were any virgins left on Olympus thanks to the unquenchable libido of Zeus himself.

“… rewarded.”

Cheers greeted the free-for-all-let’s-screw-Triton-over announcement. His uncle was one sick bastard.

Many of the Olympians were assembled, all wearing their long flowing tunics, some in white, some in more cheerful colors. Most faces looking back at Triton were familiar.

He spotted Artemis, who was decked out in her hunting gear, soft leather boots caressing her long muscular legs. Triton caught her eye and winked at her. When he was back after his sentence, he’d make a play for her. It would be fun, especially since he knew his annoying half-brother Orion coveted her too. Now, that would be a worthy challenge: which brother to bed her first?

Now that Triton had received his punishment, he reconsidered his assessment of Danae, Zeus’s current mistress. Looking back, she hadn’t been such a great lay after all. At least she wasn’t worth the kind of harsh revenge Zeus had taken on him. All she’d done was lie there with her legs spread. She hadn’t even sucked his shaft. He was in the right mind to go back there and make her suck him off so at least the punishment fit the crime.

But of course, that wasn’t possible. Zeus would make sure Triton wasn’t going anywhere but down the mountain into mortal Greece. And he would keep a tight leash on his mistress from now on—that was, until he lost interest and moved onto somebody else. Which would probably happen even before Triton returned from Earth.

“So, it is done.” Zeus turned and walked across the terrace toward his opulent white marble palace.

“Off to Greece then,” Triton mumbled to himself.

Zeus spun around and gave him a nasty grin. “Greece? You’re not going to Greece.”

“But, where, if not—”

“You’re going to America.”

Triton’s heart missed a beat. America? The land of bad television, consumerism, and people obsessed with beauty? What were the chances of finding a woman there who could love him for anything but his beauty? While Triton often ventured into Greece and Italy for some erotic adventures, during which of course he had to disguise the fact that he was a god, he’d always avoided the Americas. They held no interest for him. Of course, Zeus knew that fact full well.

A moment later Zeus was gone, and the spectators dispersed. Triton looked over to where Eros and Hermes stood and noticed Orion grin just behind them. The god of the hunters was a royal pain in their collective butts. There was no love lost between them. Triton graced him with an undignified look, but even now, Orion could barely contain his glee before he turned and walked away.

His two friends tried to remain positive.

“Don’t worry, you can handle it,” Eros claimed.

Triton slammed his fist into the love god’s stomach. “That’s for giving me such brilliant advice.”

“Hey, I meant well.”

“Should’ve listened to me instead,” Hermes said with a smug smile on his face. “But no, you thought I was tricking you. Now, would I do that to you?”

“Yes, you would, and you have,” Triton said, ignoring his friend’s mock-innocent tone.

“Not this time. Hades would have been a blast.”

Like he needed to be told. Hades might have a bad rep among mortals, but a crafty god like Triton could have made it work.

“Maybe you should have listened to Zeus in the first place, rather than daydreaming again.” Eros caressed his bow.

“Or maybe you shouldn’t have shagged Danae in the first place.”

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty, but that’s not going to help me now. So, what’s the plan? How are we getting out of this one?” Triton asked and gave his friends an expectant look.

“We?” Eros and Hermes responded in unison.

“You’re on your own on this one,” Eros proclaimed.

Hermes nodded. “Ditto.”

“Jerks!” Triton didn’t get a chance to continue chastising his friends. A moment later, he felt a strong force rip through his body, transporting him off the mountain.

“Eros, payback’s a bitch,” he yelled, but wasn’t sure if the love god had heard him.